


Last

by saucisson



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:58:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucisson/pseuds/saucisson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the things the word means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last

**Author's Note:**

> Slight continuity problem in that Nasir is not clean-shaven on the morning of their parting, and neither of them are particularly clean. And yes yes I know they didn't usually use soap and water in Italy, but they did sometimes (and they definitely in Northwestern Europe) and besides its more sensual than oil and a stick.

Nasir earlier had noted private bath belonging to dominus, directed Agron's attention to it as rebels explored villa grounds seeking spoils. Hands ran over small luxuries -- olive-oil soap, scented oil, boar's-hair brush, shaving blades and cloth, polished obsidian mirror. Agron watched, wished for Nasir to know comfort, safety, pleasure in his life. Decision that caused him to lose sleep for many days, caused stab of guilt and despair with each touch, kiss, smile, decision that Agron made and un-made a hundred times he then knew was right: sending Nasir across the Alps with Spartacus is the right thing. Nasir will be safe, he will be whole, he will live a long life. 

News delivered to Spartacus, Agron seeks Nasir again and finds him standing against wall, watching revelry with despairing eyes.

\- Come, he says, takes Nasir's hand and leads him to private sanctuary.

***

Agron puzzles over items laid out beside pool; dishes full of soft soaps and salves, bottles of oils, bowl of water smelling of herbs. Nasir tells him the name and purpose of each item.

\- You knew luxurious life, Agron tries to tease though voice betrays sorrow.

\- I often bathed my dominus, Nasir responds flatly and instantly Agron is ashamed of his words. He tries to bring smile to Nasir's lips.

\- You will find bathing North of the Alps a rougher business. I recall determined mother with jug of cold water and ball of hardened soap full of lye stinging eyes. 

Nasir forces a smile, but it falls as soon as it is formed. Agron feels own lips twitch downward in spasm of sorrow and looks away, towards small tile pool heated by Vulcan's own fires beneath the earth.

He moves Nasir to sit up on cedar bench along wall. Nasir twirls lover's hair between fingers as Agron kneels before him, unlacing boots and removing his own. Any other night would see him take advantage of position to grip head, wrap leg around shoulder, have his pleasure in lover's mouth. This night, breaking heart smothers desire and he can only sit while his man undresses him.

Agron stands again, pulls Nasir to his feet to remove cloth wound round waist. Removing his own, he pulls lover to stand close, wraps arms around to feel body pressed against him, presses forehead to Nasir's. He turns Nasir towards pool and guides him to step in. Steam curls up, invites toes to dip into heated waters. Nasir plunges in, hot springs one of few relics of life in bondage that he finds himself missing. He sinks fully into waters, sliding under until Agron can see nothing of him. Agron himself is less sure, flinching at heat, letting himself acclimate to unfamiliar sensation. Waters of Germania are rushing and cold, his people hold tests of manhood in their embrace. 

Nasir emerges, turns to Agron. Eyes speak what voice cannot be trusted to utter without breaking.

Agron lowers himself into the steaming-hot water behind Nasir. Arm wraps around waist, pulling lover back against chest. Nasir leans head against Agron's shoulder, Agron turns own to rest against Nasir's.

They speak no words for many minutes. Water envelops and cradles and wraps herself around them, holding them close to one another.

Nasir breaks stillness with quavering voice.

\- I would have proper bath, he says. - You would be aided by soap and oils, he adds though humor dies upon lips. Agron eyes bathing artifacts askance, watches Nasir as he takes small fingerful of olive-oil soap in hand. He smears soap upon Agron's arms, rubbing gently into skin. Dirt, blood, smoke, come away under attentive touch, til Agron catches him by the wrist.

\- You are dominus here, he says. - And ever shall be, in own home and own land, far from grasp of Rome.

He rubs soap between own hands, slides palms along Nasir's body -- over neck, shoulders, down arms. Nasir closes eyes and leans into Agron's touch. Lover takes fingers, massages each in turn, dips below water to rinse of soap and grime. Clean hands emerge, Agron kisses fingertips, palm, arm, takes Nasir in arms to kiss shoulder, turning mind from thought that he will never again taste Nasir's skin after this night. He reaches below water again to lift first one foot than the other, pressing thumbs into soles and squeezing to ease ache borne of weeks of marching over rough and frozen land. Nasir curls toes under lover's attentions, strong hands squeezing muscles of legs to press out tension. 

Another handful of soap, this time Agron massages into Nasir's hair. Hands run against head, comb through locks, teasing apart tangles with soapy fingers. Nasir sighs at touch, at gentleness, at the quiet devotion of his beloved. Bowl of scented water now, Agron tips some over Nasir's head to rinse, wiping away foam from closed eyes, taking care not to let it sting. Clean hair squeaks under his fingers, clean face emerges from sweet-smelling waterfall.

\- Stand, he murmurs in lover's ear. Nasir rises from steaming water, Agron reaches for palm-ful of soap, looks up upon lean body of Syrian lover who he sends away forever upon the morning. He leans bearded cheek against stomach, feels Nasir's fingers stroke hair. Lifting head, he presses lips against Nasir's waist, spreads cleansing foam over skin. Hands reach down, slip over cock, between legs to ass, slides fingers along opening and hears Nasir sigh, sees smile cross lips as head tips down to ask for kiss.

Agron smiles back, answers with lips upon lovers'. Now Nasir reaches for bowl.

\- Head, he orders with a sly grin, rubs soapy fingers through Agron's spiky locks, behind ears, and over face, as Agron tips head towards Nasir to allow ministrations.

\- Better than scolding mum, he quips, pressing mouth to Nasir's stomach again as Nasir tips herbed water over him also.

\- Feet, Nasir orders again, eliciting another grin from Agron who raises one foot from the water and presses against Nasir's waist. Nasir feigns disgust at Agron's rough toes, slathers in soap and causes flinch with teasing tickle upon sole. Other follows, then Nasir pulls Agron to stand before him as he had done. Agron feels long fingers slip down over stomach, over hips, back up between thighs, feels slippery hands slide up over cock, around balls. He reaches for Nasir to steady himself as pulse of heat comes over him, sighing against Nasir's forehead. Hands again over ass, fingers pressing against opening cause another surge of heat, hands grip shoulders of smaller man to retain balance. Nasir leans into Agron's arms, pressing head against shoulder, silently wills German lover to stay with him forever, never slip from grasp.

Agron feels rough cheek against skin, trails fingers along Nasir's jaw and lip, pulls him down to sit again in soothing waters.

He takes handful of soap and spreads gently across Nasir's jaw, chin, upper lip. He smiles at the look, his young man with white "beard." Nasir smiles back, bashful in his vulnerability. Agron looks at him, studies him, pulls lantern closer to bring light, and picks up blade. He holds Nasir's skin taut and scrapes blade down cheek, coarse black hair coming away under the knife. Two more strokes along Nasir's jaw and the beautiful, wild little dog who stabbed Agron's heart from across villa courtyard emerges. Agron wipes blade on cloth, turns Nasir's head to finish other side. Nasir's eyes close under Agron's attention. He feels days weeks months come away with scrape of blade against skin, returning him to the moment he first saw his big man from Germania staring at him across plaza, moment where heart pounded in chest and body went hot then cold then hot, when head spun with strength of his wanting. Agron slides close to run blade down Nasir's lip, over chin, under jaw.

A pause. Nasir opens eyes to see Agron gazing at him. Green eyes are rimmed with red. Agron reaches for soap, Nasir raises chin, Agron smooths cream along lover's neck. Blade against skin again, this time along vein and throat. Nasir breathes in deep, smells Agron's scent, feels warm body close, hears steady breathing and lets go any fear; he is safe under his man's sure hand. Agron guides blade around curve of throat, Adam's apple, jugular vein. Nasir keeps still, letting lover's concentration take over.

It is done.

Agron looks again upon face of Syrian boy who blushed in his presence and followed close to heel, yet proved himself one made of steel, possessing heart that shames Agron with its honesty. Dark curls frame face as hair begins to dry. Agron twirls lock around fingertip, eyes fall upon scar on right cheek, heart sinks at thought of what life he has brought Nasir to, life he now pushes him to escape. Agron takes soothing salve upon fingers, massages into lover's skin. He kisses lips, breathes in scent of yarrow and olive-tree and Nasir.

Agron hands shaving knife to lover. Nasir turns blade over in his hand, places knife back on edge of bath, shakes head.

\- I would carry this vision with me, Nasir says. He runs long fingers along Agron's jaw, tracing twirling line of mustache from corner of mouth to beard, long enough now to become soft again. Agron turns into fingers, kisses, presses face into hand. - I would carry you with me.

\- Mein herz, Agron whispers, pulls Nasir close.

*** 

Dawn breaks through window, cold yellow light upon wall. Agron fights wakefulness, wishing for just a few more moments with Nasir's arm around him, body warm against his. Nasir stirs, forehead pressed against Agron's strong back, leg tucked between his lover's, hand coupled to his, drawn up against chest. Voices already call through courtyard, Crixus inspecting troops and arms. 

Memories of night past choke both men into silence: reverent kisses and touches, memorizing each other to guard against separation of time and fate, fighting sleep so to lose not one second of loving each other.

But morning comes as it will, and separate paths beckon. They rise in silence, dress in silence, break fast as much as they are able in silence. 

Arms wrapped tight, a kiss, a benediction.

Hope -- however faint -- of reunion, and:

Ich liebe dich.

Puls meines herzens

Goodbye.


End file.
